Yellowstone Romance Series - Bundle (# 2-5) (63 page)

BOOK: Yellowstone Romance Series - Bundle (# 2-5)
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Chase knew his son’s love for Kate kept him motivated.   His sole focus since the first hurdle to his recovery had been to go after Kate. The frustration with his slowly healing body was evident on Kyle’s face on a daily basis. Chase had offered all the help he could think of. Once Kyle’s arm was no longer in a sling, Chase made crutches for him to move around on, in order to get him up and moving.  They’d gone to the nearby lake, and Chase told him swimming was the best low-impact way to strengthen his muscles again. In the far corner of the depot, he and Samuel had rigged up a weight bench. Drawing on his experience with rehabilitation from injuries in his younger years - sports injuries from his former, long forgotten life - he’d coached his son on the best ways to strengthen the muscles in his legs and arms using the weights. 

Chase had ignored the doctor’s warnings against such activities for his son. If it had been up to the old saw-bones, Kyle would still be lying in bed. Chase knew the speediest road to recovery was for his son to move around, and slowly build up his strength again.

Kyle was growing stronger by the day. He would spend hours on the bench, so much so that Chase had to disable the contraption. “Too much is going to do more harm than good, Kyle,” Chase had warned.

“I need to be ready when I go to Boston in November,” Kyle had said, a fierce determination on his face.

“And you will be,” Chase had patted him on the back. When Kate’s telegram had arrived a little over a week ago, Kyle had acted like a man possessed. Good thing Sarah didn’t know about half the things their son had been doing, or she might tie him to his bed and lock him in his room. If she found out Kyle had been on horseback again, she would have a fit.

“I understand how you feel, Kyle, but slow and easy wins the race.”

To Chase’s surprise, his son sneered at him in anger. “How the hell could you know how I feel, Pop? Everything’s always come easy for you. You’re the great, legendary Chase Russell, the man who outmaneuvered an entire tribe of hostile Blackfoot. No one will ever let me forget that I’m your son, or that I haven’t done what you have. How does it feel, knowing I can never measure up to you?”

Chase stared at his son in stunned silence. “I never knew you felt that way, Kyle,” he said quietly. “I hope your mother and I never make you feel like you don’t measure up. We never talk about what happened that day.”

Kyle’s shoulders slumped, and he averted his eyes. 

“Kyle, don’t think for a minute that the work you’re doing as a scout and with Hayden and Langford isn’t impressive. Some day, hundreds of years from now, it’ll be you who will be remembered for doing a great service to this nation for helping promote a national park idea, not my inept attempts at keeping my ass alive.”

Slowly, Kyle raised his head and met his father’s eyes. Chase placed a hand on Kyle’s shoulder. “And let me tell you something else, son. It doesn’t always require brawn to prove that you’re a hero. Going up against a powerful man like Devereaux takes guts few men possess.”

Kyle nodded slowly. A new understanding seemed to pass between them.

*****

 

 ”Kyle Daniel Russell, I don’t think you should be lifting those heavy bags,” Sarah scolded when she reached the freight wagon. Kyle barely glanced at his mother before lifting one of the sacks from the back of the wagon, and slung it over his shoulder. He couldn’t hide the grimace on his face before he turned and headed back into the depot with his load. Chase squeezed his wife’s arm, and silently shook his head at her. She glared at him, but her shoulders sagged in apparent defeat.

Chase turned the corner into the depot just as Kyle dropped the sack on the growing mound of grain stacks.

“The package from Kate came,” he called. Kyle straightened his back, and stood motionless for a few seconds, before he slowly turned. Uncertainty registered in his eyes. Just like the rest of them, Kyle had to be wondering what Kate could possibly have sent them. Chase held the parcel out to him, and Kyle reached for it. His gaze lingered on the battered package in his hand. He leaned back against the stacks of grain, and looked up. Samuel had entered the depot, and Kyle met each person’s eyes. The air in the building became heavy with anticipation.  Slowly, Kyle unlaced the string tied around the brown paper. He revealed a sealed folder, with a loose sheet of paper on top. 

The expression on Kyle’s face seemed to change with each word he read. First a barely discernable smile, followed by eyebrows drawn together, and finally, a dark, almost murderous look.

“How’s Kate, son?” Chase was almost afraid to ask.

Kyle looked up at his father, the pain of loss clearly written in his eyes. Chase understood Kyle’s frustration and feeling of helplessness. He was convinced he’d failed the woman he loved.  How well he understood that feeling.

Kyle didn’t answer. He picked the wax seal off the folder, and opened it. Carefully, he removed several sheets of paper, scanning each quickly.  His dark eyes glowed with rage when he finally looked up.

“That son of a bitch,” Kyle growled. “I knew he was up to no good when he toured the Yellowstone. Now I know why.”

 

 

 

Chapter 31

 

 

“I say it again, sir, if we lay tracks into Montana territory, more people will be able to settle there. How absurd is it to disallow individuals from owning plots of land in the Yellowstone region? The government can’t simply lay claim to that land.”

Kyle stood silently at the back of the large meeting room, his arms folded across his chest, listening to the arguments presented by members of the congressional Committee of Public Lands. No one had noticed him slipping into the room. He spotted Nathaniel Langford sitting toward the front of the room, shifting in his seat. He was apparently just as agitated about the argument presented by one Senator Cole. Kyle held the folder containing the documents signed by those congressmen who Hiram had bribed in his hand.  Cole was at the top of the list.

Kyle scanned the room. No one paid him any attention, even though he looked as out of place among this group of people as any of them would, sitting around a campfire in the Madison Valley. Langford had urged him to come. He’d said that a testimony by a “native” resident of the area would prove to be persuasive.

Kyle hoped this meeting wouldn’t take too long. He was anxious to get to Boston. He had waited three long months to come east. Three months of wondering on a daily basis how Katelyn was faring. Thinking him dead, had she resigned herself to her former life? A slow smile spread across his lips, and his gaze fell on the documents in his hand. No, she was a changed woman. The girl he met five months ago, the soft-spoken, quiet church mouse, wouldn’t have dared steal these papers from the man she believed to be her husband. Kyle’s chest swelled with pride. Apparently, she had discovered the inner strength he always knew she possessed. At times, he wanted to write to her, tell her he was alive, and would make good on his promise. His father hadn’t allowed him to think he had failed her.

Kyle realized that he, too, had changed. All the self-doubts that had haunted him over the years plagued him during those initial weeks of his recovery.  He hadn’t been able to protect the woman he loved. He’d promised her he wouldn’t let Devereaux take her back, and he had failed.  His father had been his staunchest supporter. Both the doctor and his mother had advised against getting out of bed and moving around too soon. As was his way, Chase Russell had gone against conventional wisdom, and Kyle was grateful to his father for insisting he move around and build his strength back slowly. Kyle came to understand the truth in his father’s words that he was his own man, and was finally able to step out of the legend’s shadow.

Kyle’s eyes scanned the room. All he had to do now was hand over his evidence to Senator Pomeroy, the man who would introduce the bill for a national park to Congress, and he could be on his way to keep the promise he’d made to Kate. He would finally free her of her marriage.

He had hoped that Hiram Devereaux would be here. With as much as he had riding on this meeting, it was a surprise that the man wasn’t in attendance. Kyle would love nothing better than to present the incriminating evidence right here in front of these fine gentlemen.

Kyle smirked. For days now, he had gone with Langford and Dr. Hayden to visit several senators personally, and talk to them about the Yellowstone region. He hadn’t told anyone what he planned to expose at this meeting.

“There is no industrial value to an area such as the Yellowstone, except for pleasure seekers,” Senator Cole continued.

Kyle recognized Senator Walter Trumbull, the senator from Illinois, who had listened with great interest to Kyle’s accounts of the area several days ago.

“Senator Cole,” Trumbull spoke in a loud and clear voice. “The region of the country that holds the Yellowstone area contains the most wonderful geysers on the face of the earth. The Rocky Mountains will most likely never be inhabited for agricultural reasons. Why shouldn’t we protect the land from those individuals who would seek to profit from it by snatching up land grants for personal financial gain? The Northern Pacific Railroad proposes to run tracks through the area, which would forever alter the landscape of this magnificent place.”

Kyle smiled. Cole seemed visibly shaken by Trumbull’s words. It was time to make an impression. He pushed himself away from the wall he leaned against, and slowly walked down the aisle that separated two sections of chairs. Heads turned, and men murmured as he reached the front of the room. Dressed in fringed buckskins, a faded blue cotton shirt, with several leather pouches hanging off his neck and shoulder, his hunting knife and tomahawk hanging off his belt, Kyle knew he made quite an impression on these refined easterners. Most of them had probably never been more than twenty miles from the nearest big city.  Langford had told him he would draw attention this way, and that was the intent and purpose.

“Who is this?” Senator Cole spoke indignantly, looking Kyle up and down with disdain on his face. “You can’t come in here and interrupt this meeting.” He looked up and scanned the room. “Someone remove this . . . this savage.”

“I’m here by invitation of Senators Trumbull and Pomeroy, and Mr. Nathaniel Langford,” Kyle spoke calmly.

Trumbull moved forward to shake his hand. “I’m glad you were able to make it, Mr. Russell.” He, too, scanned the room. “May I present Mr. Kyle Russell, a man who has lived in the area called the Yellowstone region his entire life. He is a knowledgeable scout and interpreter of the area. He would like to share some of his thoughts about preservation of the land.”   The burly senator with his graying mutton chops held out his hand for Kyle to shake.

Kyle felt, rather than saw, Senator Cole stare at him. Kyle turned to face his audience. All eyes were on him, some expressing keen interest, others annoyance.  He held each man’s gaze briefly, before he started speaking.

“I’ve listened to, and heard a lot of arguments both for and against the Yellowstone region deserving of government protection,” Kyle said slowly. “I have already met many of you these past few days, and you know my position.  I know you all have seen Dr. Hayden and his exhibits, and viewed Thomas Moran’s paintings and Henry Jackson’s photographs. All I will add to that is none of those visuals can do justice to experiencing the region first hand.”

Kyle paused, observing many of the men nodding their heads in agreement. He glanced briefly at Senator Cole standing off to his right, then searched out the other members who pledged to vote against the park idea for a share in the profits promised to them by Hiram.

“When Mr. Langford originally asked me to come here,” he continued, raising his voice for emphasis, “I was supposed to talk about the geysers, and other wonders of the region.” Kyle’s gaze fixed on one particular senator who visibly perspired and squirmed in his seat. “Personally, I would like to see the government protect that land, especially from greedy individuals who see it not for its beauty, but for the monetary value.”

The senator Kyle stared at wiped at the sweat on his forehead with a white handkerchief. Kyle enjoyed watching the man squirm. It was time to delivered his final punch.

“I speak of men such as Hiram Devereaux,” – a loud murmur arose at the mention of the name – “who would stoop to bribing certain members of this committee to vote against the park idea so that he may profit from the land.” With each word, he had to raise his voice in order to be heard above the uproar his accusation caused. He held the folder up over his head, and stood his ground calmly as several men rose from their seats in outrage. Others had disbelieving looks on their faces.

“How dare you come here to make such outrageous claims? Do you have proof of your allegations?” Senator Cole huffed next to him. Kyle turned slowly and faced the senator. His lips rose in a smile.

“Right here,” Kyle said, handing the folder to the red-faced man. “And I believe, Senator Cole, that your name is on the first page.”

The noise in the room turned deafening. Kyle turned to Nathaniel Langford and Senator Trumbull. He hadn’t told anyone what he would reveal today. Again, he regretted that Hiram wasn’t here in person. Every nerve in him itched to face off with the man again. Kyle knew that this time, he would come out victorious.

“Those are some serious allegations young man,” Senator Trumbull said, concern written over his face.

“You will find the evidence irrefutable, sir,” Kyle answered calmly. He looked at Langford. “If you’ll excuse me, now that I’ve stated my case here, I have important business in Boston.”  He shook Langford’s hand, who nodded with a wide smile on his face.

 Kyle strode out of the room.

“Who was that man?” Kyle heard someone ask.

“Haven’t you heard of Chase Russell? He’s a famous mountain man in the Montana Territory. That there is his son. Looks like heroic acts run in the family. That young man will be remembered in the country’s history after what he did here today.”

The voices faded as he headed down the hall. It was time to get out of Washington, and make his way to Boston. He was anxious to pursue the more important reason he had come east.

 

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